The Candyland Chronicles
by Ty Ty Tydrich
Summary: If Plumpy had known what adventure he would be getting himself into when he discovered three children shipwrecked on the beach, and the great prophecy that would lead them across Candyland, from the heights of the Gumdrop Mountains to the darkest parts of the Lollipop Woods, he never would have rolled out of bed.
1. Prologue

The tribe stood around them in a wild circle, hooting and cheering as they went at each other. The sun beat down hot on Skor's neck as he danced with Necco of the Mambachus tribe. Beads of sweat glistened on the backs of his hands as the elders watched in patient silence and the youngsters screamed and howled, shaking their heads and wagging their tongues. Their energy pulsed through Skor the way bees rattle a hive. Necco bared his teeth, but Skor only laughed in his face.

They did their brutal dance in the center of the village, upon the hard dirt where they made their fire. Today the fire was burning within. Skor charged and grappled Necco round the waist, throwing him to the earth. He sat upon his prey and met Necco's howling with a heavy fist. He was heaved off his opponent's body and Necco was upon him like a feral dog, leaping through the air, teeth bared. Skor brought his heel up and stayed Necco's assault with a deft kick. Necco flipped and fell to the ground again, and in a blink Skor was on top of him. The screams of his tribesmen sent energy pumping through him, making him strong. He thought of the pretty women who would be his to woo once he had proved his dominance. He lifted his elbow into the air, and fell crashing down onto Necco's chest.

The way the tribe cheered told Skor the match was over. Only then did he roll off Necco's shuddering body, take a breath and stand to bask in the dirty, bloody glory of victory. He threw his hands in the air and welcomed his people's acclaims with a mighty roar. With wild eyes he looked around at his tribe.

"Victory is sweet!" He screamed, bounding about the circle. "Share this taste with me, brothers and sisters! The blood of our ancestors runs through our veins! The blood of warriors, of soldiers, of victors! Today that blood ran hot in me! It too ran in Necco, but his blood ran from his nose and onto the ground! His blood ran cold, but not mine! Not ours! We are the kings of warriors, ancient and noble! We are GINGERBRED!"

"GINGERBRED!" His kin screamed like dogs at the moon.

And that was it. The duel was over; Skor had proved himself a stronger warrior than Necco of the Mambachus tribe before his kinsmen and before the gods. The tribe parted for him as he exited the circle and left Necco writhing on the hard hot earth. His peers patted him roughly on the back as he passed, voicing praises and congratulations, and the women reached out to touch his chest and arms. Skor made his way for the greatest house in their village, the dwelling of the elder. He walked through the hard brown door without first bothering to knock and found Elder Jujubes sitting legs crossed in the center of the dwelling, smoking a pipe and gazing into the fire pit with eyes like glass.

"You did not knock," the elder said in a voice both wise and frail.

"The greatest warrior of the Gingerbred peoples come to talk to you, before anything else. You should be honored," Skor said. "The gods have ordained me the mightiest of our people. Necco the Champion is champion no more. Now that title belongs to Skor the Great."

"These festivities are held every year, boy. Soon or late one will come along to best you, too."

"This is a long time to come, old man. I shall win for many years to come, and all the tribes of the Gingerbred will flower me with gifts and great wealth. I will make this tribe great again."

"It is many moons before you might prove yourself again in the ancient dueling festival, but for now I have need of a skill which you possess. In the next room waits a man from the east. I wish you to translate."

"Very well." Skor called the man in the next room to come in. A tall, thin, pale figure stepped through the door, stooping so as not to hit his head on the crossbeams. "I do not know this man," Skor said to Elder Jujubes in the language of their people.

"He is called Lord Licorice from the kingdom to the east," the elder replied. "He is the lord and ruler of the Licorice Forest."

"My elder offers welcome to you, Lord Licorice," Skor said to the man in the common tongue of the east. Lord Licorice tipped his hat to the both of them.

"I am most gracious that he would have me," the lord from the east replied. "And might I say it is an honor to speak to Skor the Champion. Good show, my boy."

"What ends to you seek with this audience? The elder's time is short and his troubles many."

Lord Licorice leaned against the brittle brown wall of the house. Firelight made the shadows dance on his long face. "I have travelled for many months, visiting each of the tribes of the Gingerbred. They are each of them strong warriors and fierce survivors. I have come to the Zours tribe because I have realized your peoples are the mightiest and greatest of all the Gingerbred."

Skor translated for Elder Jujubes, and the elder responded. "All of these things which you have said are true, and yet they are kind words all the same. But why do you offer such sweet compliments? Where is the sting behind your honeyed words."

"There is no sting, my dear man," Lord Licorice said when all had been translated. "I have come to offer the Zours people a chance for glory beyond anything in the history of all the Gingerbred tribes. What I propose is an alliance, and a campaign of glorious war. War that they will write songs and stories about for generations to come, wars that forever idolize the bravest and the strongest of heroes," he concluded, nodding at Skor.

Skor could tell the elder was not pleased with Lord Licorice's proposal. His face soured and he shook his head. "Our people are not mercenaries to be bought for killing with alliances and empty promises of fortune."

"I should've expected such a response from dear Elder Jujubes," Lord Licorice sighed when he heard what the elder had to say. "He is old and frail. He would see no glory in the battles that would come. But you, Skor, Skor the Champion, you are young and strong. You could bring honor to your name, and to your tribe. Anywhere you went, people would know the name of Skor the Champion- no, Skor the Conqueror."

Skor was quiet for a long time. The tall devious man looked at him eyes that bit into his soul. Finally he shook the fangs and told Lord Licorice to leave. "You have heard Elder Jujubes' response. This audience is over."

Lord Licorice gave them a deep bow, tipped his hat and started to leave. At the doorway he turned to Skor. "Think on what I have said. I will be waiting."

"What is that?" Elder Jujubes asked as Lord Licorice started off. "My boy, what is it he said to you?"

Skor began his measured response. "He said he has much disappointment, and he bids you a good day."

"I am glad to see the back of that man," the elder said. "He is hungry. Hungry for power."

Skor nodded and agreed with the elder. But somewhere, deep in his gut, his stomach growled.


	2. Chapter 1

The day started out perfectly normal, with nothing strange or unexpected to ruin the morning. It was a warm day, but there was a cool breeze that plum-picking a terrifically enjoyable experience. The sun had not yet peaked in the sky when the baskets had been filled with ripe, juicy plums, and were set aside. The trees were neatly trimmed, an impressive feat considering the vastness of the plum tree plots. They were spread out along the southern coast for nearly two miles; not a terribly long distance for an ordinary person, but the caretaker of the plum trees was not an ordinary person at all. He was quite an extraordinary person, as far as people go; he was covered from head to toe in thick green hair and didn't quite reach four feet in height. In fact, some folks might go as far as to say he wasn't a person at all, but just like any other person he could talk and think and love, especially when it came to his plums. His name, fittingly, was Plumpy, and it was his solemn duty to care for the plum tree plot. This he did, and had done, every day for years, and he would continue to do so for the rest of his days.

After the ripe plums had been plucked and the trees had been trimmed, Plumpy went along the beach collecting seashells. Every so often he would find that a conch had washed up on the shore, but today he found something more out of the ordinary than he had ever found. As he walked along the beach, he came across the remnants of a ruined boat: white driftwood was scattered all about, and what once might have been a sail lay tattered across the sand. To top it all off, three people were strewn about the wreck, wearing the most peculiar clothes Plumpy had ever seen. At first glance Plumpy thought they were dead; after all, they weren't moving and it in such a situation it seems a safe assumption to make. But he inched closer to inspect them further, step by step, and he discovered he could hear them breathing. The tide lapped at their legs and left white foam around their feet.

Plumpy's first instinct was to run as fast as his little legs would take him, and simply pray the tide would wash this very peculiar mess away from his beach. But then his adventurous side got the better of him. So, he found a very long stick and prodded the people lying on the beach. He noticed that they were children; two boys and a girl, and suddenly they did not seem scary at all. Plumpy thought he might even try to wake one of them up. Suddenly the boy nearest him stirred and Plumpy leapt four feet in the air (quite a remarkable jump, considering his height).

Plumpy had reached the tree line by the time the boy had collected his senses and was sitting up. He looked around at his companions, then to the wrecked boat, and finally his eyes took in the landscape around him. The boy looked dazed and confused, Plumpy thought, like he had been knocked on the head. Perhaps he had been knocked on the head. From the look of it, it seemed as if they had experience tumult at sea. Well, it was their own fault for doing something so crazy as taking a raft out on the Great Sea. No good ever came from such wild adventures.

Still, though, Plumpy couldn't help but pity them, the poor children, and some part of him wanted to go and help them. The boy looked positively discombobulated, but at least he was conscious. So Plumpy asked himself the question, what would old Pap have done? Plumpy knew the answer, of course; Pap would have marched right down that beach and offered a paw to those poor wretches. So Plumpy plucked up his courage, puffed out his chest, and marched right up to the boy.

If the boy's eyes had been wide before, they grew even larger when he saw the furry green man marching down the beach toward him. "Am I dreaming?" the boy asked. The question took Plumpy aback. Quite the greeting!

"Who am I to say who you are or aren't? I haven't even introduced my own self yet!" He said. "Speaking of which, I am Plumpy, keeper of the plum trees and picker of the plums. Now, you tell me, are you Dreaming?"

"I must be," the boy said. "That, or I'm dead."

"Well, which are you?" Plumpy demanded. "Dreaming or Dead? And who are your friends?"

"My friends…?" the boy who was either Dreaming or Dead seemed to just take notice of his companions for the first time. "Wilbur!" He gasped. "Ruth!" He crawled over to where they lay. "Are you alright? Wake up!"

The young boy was the next to awaken. He coughed up some water, then looked at Dreaming (or Dead). "Harry? Where are we?" Young Wilbur looked up at Plumpy and cried, "Woah!"

"Wilbur, help me wake Ruth." They went over to where the girl lay and shook her shoulder until she woke up.

"Harry? Wilbur? What's going on? What on earth…?"

"Plumpy, keeper of the plum trees and picker of the plums, at your service, my lady," Plumpy said, remembering his manners and giving them a bow.

"What is this place?" The poor girl looked utterly flabbergasted. She truly must have knocked her head. What a question! Plumpy laughed at her state for a moment until he realized the boys were wondering the same thing. Who were these strange outsiders?

"What is this place? My dear girl, these are my plum trees, and this is my plum tree plot," Plumpy explained patiently. Next they would be asking what plum trees were!

"I understand the plum trees… but how did we get here? _Where_ is here?"

Now it was Plumpy's turn to stand mouth agape, feeling quite beyond belief. "Why, here is Candyland, and Candyland is here!"

"Candyland?"

"That's right! The magnificent kingdom of Candyland!" Plumpy explained, leaping into the air with his paws above his head. "The paramount paradise of Candyland! The unparalleled utopia of Candyland! And these," Plumpy waved his stubby arms in the general direction of his trees, "are my plum trees!"

"I must have hit my head or something," Ruth said, cupping her temple and slowly standing. The boys followed, and just like that Plumpy felt quite short again, a feeling that had always been there but that he'd never quite gotten used to.

"Then I must have hit mine too," Harry said.

"My head feels fine." Wilbur shrugged. Ruth looked at the wreckage strewn about the beach.

"What happened? I remember a storm, and then…"

"Nothing." Harry stooped to pick up a scattered tatter of sail. Plumpy leaned on his tiptoes and he just met Wilbur's chest.

"Maybe you three should sit down a while," he offered. "Perhaps a spot of tea, as well? And some juicy, refreshing plums?"

"I am hungry…" Wilber told Ruth and Harry. Ruth shrugged in exasperation.

"That sounds great, until I can figure out what's going on and how we got here."

Plumpy clapped his paws together. He so loved company, even it was three strange children. "Excellent! Let us be off! Follow me!" And he started home, his peculiar company in tow.

If Plumpy had known that morning what kind of adventure he would be getting himself into, he never would have rolled out of bed. If he had known the role he had to play in events to come, he never would have left home. If he had known the future of the children he discovered, he would have left them lying on the beach. But, he had absolutely no way of knowing, and so that morning he rolled right out of bed, and left home to go about his business, and woken the children on the beach. And so, with no way of knowing, Plumpy took the first steps of what would be the greatest adventure of his long life.


	3. Chapter 2

Plumpy's home was set up beneath in the shade of a grove of plum trees, where the heat of the sun was kept at bay by the canopy of branches. It wasn't a house, per se; Plumpy had no need for a roof, because the lands had not seen rainstorms in three hundred years, and the trees formed a wall that protected Plumpy from the chill of the wind, but it hosted all the amenities of home: fine finished wood chairs sat around a small round table, set with fine china for the off chance that relatives came to visit. An iron stove was built into the very trunk of the fattest tree on the plot, though it only saw use when Plumpy decided to fry the occasional sea fish. He drew fresh water from a well not too far off, which his Pap had dug when he was just a youngster. A woven hammock hung from between two plum trees, and Plumpy spent many nights looking up through the branches to the stars as he rocked gently to sleep. The whole thing was set up beside the Rainbow Path, which made for a fair amount of traffic and, more importantly, hungry, thirsty, plum-loving patrons. It was simple, but Plumpy lived in comfort, and he never found himself wanting for any more than he already had.

The children seemed simply fascinated by his living arrangements. Plumpy had to ask them to sit before they would stop gaping at his dwelling, but he did feel a certain sense of pride that they were so captivated with his humble abode. He poured tea for the four of them, but Wilbur said he didn't like tea, and turned his nose up when Plumpy offered him fresh prune juice instead. So it was a cup of water for Wilbur, tea for the rest, and fresh plums all around.

When the children had eaten their fill, they sat back in their little chairs with theirs hands on their bellies. Plumpy was paranoid his petite chairs, though well-built as they were, would buckle beneath the weight of the much larger, plum-and-tea-filled kids, so he suggested they lay out in the soft grass while he cleaned up. They spread out and watched the sunlight danced through the canopy as Plumpy did the dishes, then when everything was clean he sat down beside them and got to business.

"So, Harry, Ruth, Wilbur," he began, and each looked as he said their names. "You are by far the strangest thing to ever wash up on my shore."

"I have no idea how we got there, I'm really sorry." Ruth looked quite apologetic. "This is all a lot to take in. The last thing I remember we were out sailing, and the sky was blue and clear, but then a terrible storm clouded the sky and we were thrown about like bugs down a drain. After that, we woke up here."

"It's a tale the likes of which I've only read about," Plumpy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He loved to read, and had an entire bookshelf full of old stories he had picked up in his many years. They were arranged alphabetically, and he had read all of them at least twice. Truth be told, he had never read about anything quite like this. "Well, you are here now, and that is a fact. The question is this: what are you going to do next?"

To that none of the kids had anything to say. They each fell silent and waited for the next to answer. Finally Harry said, "I guess we go home."

"But how?" Ruth asked him. "Our boat is destroyed!"

A thought popped into Plumpy's idea, and he felt quite proud of himself as he said, "Up the Path a way there is a lumberjack who lives in the forest at the foot of the mountains. He eats my plums sometimes, and when he comes he likes to tell me about different things he builds out of the wood he cuts. Chairs, shelves, desks, tables even, you'd be amazed at the furniture he knows how to make, and all out of peppermint bark! A boat built with the wood of a peppermint tree would never fail you, not even in the face of the fiercest gales."

"Do you think he would, though? Built a boat for us?"

"There's only one way to find out!" Plumpy said, hopping to his feet. "We'll have to go visit him!"

The children could see no other option, so they got up from the comfy grass. Plumpy thought it would be smart to come bearing gifts, so they filled a barrow full of his finest plums. "There!" he said to himself, in his head so the kids wouldn't know. "And once he's eaten good and plenty, he'll build the kids a boat and send them on their way, and this adventure will be behind me!" As much as Plumpy enjoyed company and adventure, he had had his fill of excitement for one day and was not looking forward to hauling the barrow of plums all the way to the peppermint forest. The sooner they were off, he figured, the sooner he would be home, so at his insistence they started off down the Rainbow Path at once.

The kids were amazed to find an entire world waiting for them just beyond the plum trees, and so with open eyes they drank in the immense road of stones of many colors that stretched before them, and also the great mountains of pink and blue and yellow sitting on the horizon and the cloudless sky above. When they started off, it was Plumpy who pushed the barrow along, but soon he grew tired and Harry offered to take it. The boy was too tall for the Plumpy-sized barrow, and kept spilling plums all over the road, until Wilbur offered to take it. The smaller boy was just the right size for the barrow, bigger than Plumpy but not quite so tall as Harry. Their faces looked so very much alike, Plumpy wondered if they could be brothers. Little Wilbur had blond hair where Harry had brown, but other than that they very well could be related.

"So are you two brothers?" Plumpy asked as they trotted along.

"That's right. And Ruth is our sister," Wilbur explained. "Harry is the oldest, but not by much. Ruth is barely a year younger than him, and they're both four years older than I am."

"So you're the youngest."

"That's right, but I'm also the smartest," Wilbur grinned. "Do you have any siblings?"

Plumpy shook his head. He had sometimes wondered what it might be like to have brothers or sisters, but it had never bothered him. "My Pap always said I was quite enough for him, and he was enough for me."

"My dad's always saying that I'm more than enough trouble for him," Wilbur said. The grin was gone. "Too much trouble, he says. Enough trouble for the three of us."

"I'm sure he'll take all of that back when he sees you safe and sound. He doesn't mean any of it, anyhow," Plumpy said. He couldn't fathom how any father could not love his son, but he was old enough to know such circumstances existed in the world. Not everything was as honeyed as his life. He also knew that not all children were sweet little sugar babies like he had been. Wilbur scowled, but he nodded, and went back to wheeling the barrow.

Down the Rainbow Path they walked, each step bringing them a bit closer to the lumberjack and (so Plumpy thought) a way home, drinking in the magic all around them, never dreaming of the adventure that lay still ahead.


	4. Chapter 3

The lumberjack's name was Mr. Mint, and he lived in a small shack at the foot of the Gumdrop Mountains. There peppermint trees grew in abundance and that was how he made his living. The wood he lumbered was shipped all through the kingdom, to be used for everything from kitchen furniture to ships to spear shafts, being widely considered the finest wood available. Even so, Mr. Mint lived a modest lifestyle, charging only enough for his lumber to afford for house and board, and to keep his enterprise running smoothly.

All this having been said, it should be noted that the peppermint forest went on for miles, and finding a small shack in the great forest was much like looking for a raisin in a pile of plums. This made the task of finding the shack particularly difficult and more a matter of luck than anything else. For a while the kids had followed a rough dirt path that Plumpy swore lead to the shack, but before they realize it they had lost the path and were wandering about in the forest. The barrow had been cumbersome enough on the paved stone path, and in the forest it was nearly impossible to maneuver. Just when they were all ready to give up and leave the barrow of plums where it stood, they stumbled upon Mr. Mint's shack.

It was built on a river that ran down from the mountains, in a large open space spotted with peppermint tree trunks. A lumber mill had been built nearby, with a water wheel that spun as the river ran through it.

"This is it," Plumpy declared. "We made it."

"Is anyone home?" Ruth asked. The windows were dark and the door was shut tight.

"I'm sure Mr. Mint is out lumberjacking. It is his job, after all. He doesn't have the luxury of sitting around all day."

"Isn't that what you do?" Wilbur asked.

"Well, no! I harvest all the ripe plums each day, and I take care of the trees, and THEN I sit around for the remainder of the day."

Just then they heard a whistling from far off, and soon Mr. Mint came ambling through the trees, holding the trunk of a large peppermint tree in each arm. The trunks were so large that the lumberjack was mostly obscured from view, and Plumpy could only identify him by the red trapper cap that popped out above the trunks. Each trunk was thrice as tall as Harry, yet Mr. Mint handled them like they weighed nothing at all. "There he is! Good afternoon!"

At Plumpy's greeting Mr. Mint threw down the tree trunks and looked in their direction. If the children had been expecting a large, burly man of great muscles the way Plumpy had the first time he ever met Mr. Mint, they were in for a surprise. Mr. Mint was truly an unimposing figure; he had long gangly legs and equally lanky arms. He was tall, and it wasn't just Plumpy who thought that. Mr. Mint was a truly tall individual, towering over Harry and Wilbur and Ruth, and most everyone who came a-visiting.

Mr. Mint was delighted to see Plumpy, and ecstatic to meet his new companions. After all, he didn't get many visitors this deep in the forest, and most who did come were visiting on business. So when Plumpy and the kids showed up with a barrow full of plums, he grabbed Plumpy up and lifted him off the ground in a spine-crushing hug. After that he grabbed the barrow and began to stuff himself on plums, not even bothering to use a napkin to wipe his mouth as the juice spilled down his chin onto his coveralls. "So," he said as he crossed his legs and sat down, using his sleeve to clean the plum juice from his face, "what can I do for you today?"

"It's a long story," Plumpy said, and proceeded to retell the morning's events in their entirety, starting from where had discovered the kids lying on the beach. Mr. Mint listened intently and nodded every so often. He was drawn thoroughly into Plumpy's conversation, and before he knew it the story had led them to that very moment. "So that's why we've come to you. We'd like you to build the children a boat to send them on their way."

Mr. Mint scratched the red fuzz growing on his face. "This will be no simple matter. Even if I do build a boat that can withstand the beatings and tribulations of the open waters, without the proper navigational charts the children will surely be lost at sea."

"I can read a map easy enough," Harry said. "How do we get navigational charts?"

"There's only one place I can think of that might have the charts you would need for a voyage like that, and that's the Royal Library in the Candy Castle."

"The Candy Castle?" Wilbur was intrigued. "What's that?"

"The Candy Castle is the palace where the royal family lives, in the capital city of Cadbury, the very heart and spirit of the kingdom. The walls are a hundred feet high, and the palace itself stands as tall as the mountains. A most magnificent city for a most magnificent king." Plumpy's gushing review got the kids excited to visit the city, but Mr. Mint's bright face darkened.

"It's been some time since you took the Path to Cadbury, I take it," he said, leaning his elbows on his long legs. He set his chin on his fist with a brooding expression. "The roads have not been safe for a long while. Folks say Lord Licorice has abandoned his lands to the thieves and brigands who call the Lollipop Woods home. He's been gone for months, in the west, making for war, as some of the stories go."

"Lord Licorice? Who's that?"

"Oh, he's a bad man," Plumpy growled. "The rumors that hang about him are as dark as his demeanor. He's known to skulk about in Licorice Castle, brooding. I don't know how the good king puts up with a brother such as that. Lord Licorice has been sour towards his majesty since they were boys, no doubt angry that he wasn't born first to inherit the entire kingdom."

"He sounds quite vile," Ruth noted.

"A rotten apple on the family tree, if you ask me."

"Rotten or not, he is a member of the royal family, and a land-owning lord of Candyland with immense power. If the tales are true, Lord Licorice hopes to unite the Gingerbred under one banner- his banner."

"This is all terrible news, and all the more reason we should send the children on their way to home and safety with all haste."

"Then Cadbury is where you're headed," Mr. Mint told them.

Walking all the way across the kingdom did not sound appealing at all to Plumpy, but when he had offered to help the children he had volunteered for the long haul. "Oh, what have I gotten myself in to!" he thought to himself. "This will be the last time I ignore that little voice in my head, telling me to stay home where you have a comfy chair and tea and plums!" Of course, that was entirely untrue, but he could not have known this at the time.

"If you'd like, I could come with you to find the navigational charts. I have business in Cadbury, and I could use a relaxing trip through the country," Mr. Mint offered, and the children received this with nods and cheers. Plumpy was happy as well; now at least he would have some ordinary company for the long journey. They decided to leave the next morning, at first light. Then they would walk the day and be up the mountains by nightfall. Mr. Mint had made the trip to Cadbury many times, and assured them he knew quickest ways to get there. He knew of a secret pass through the mountains that would cut their travel time considerably. Plumpy knew little of the mountain passes, and the children knew nothing of anything about Candyland, so they moved to take Mr. Mint's path.

Night came and they enjoyed the warmth of a bonfire Mr. Mint threw together with scraps of dry wood. They enjoyed a supper of eggs and fresh-caught swedish fish from the river, and talked and laughed and the children listened with wonder as Plumpy and his lumberjack friend told them about the wonders of Candyland. And there was much to tell, and the sun set as the children heard stories of the Gingerbred in the west and their mighty ancestors, the Gingermen. Their eyelids fell heavy as Mr. Mint spoke of the lovely and mysterious Queen Frostine who ruled in the far east beyond the Icecream Sea, and soon it was only Mr. Mint and Plumpy left sitting in front of dying embers, discussing travel plans. Then the embers died out as sleep claimed Plumpy, and as he drifted in to sleep he thought of his comfy hammock back at home.


	5. Chapter 4

The following morning brought the first full day of their great adventure. As the sun rose Mr. Mint packed his bags and slung them over one shoulder, picked up his long axe and they were off. Down the Rainbow Trail they started, while the orange sun was still peeking sleepily over the horizon. Plumpy took a peek back down the trail to where his plum trees waited, entertaining for the moment the notion of returning home and leaving the children in the more than capable hands of Mr. Mint. Then the thought was gone as the children called his name, and he waddled after them. The path began sloping up the mountainside, slowly but steadily, until the morning fog blotted out any sight of the ground below. Soon the path wove into the mountains, and they lost sight of the forests and plains. The mountains were of many different colors, hard greys and soft blues, as well as pale yellow.

The air grew frigid as they climbed. There, on the bare cliffs of the mountains, a frosty wind blew. Plumpy regretted not bringing a jacket along for the trip; but then again, how could he have known he would need one? Soon the children were shivering, so Mr. Mint opened the bags he had packed, and pulled several large blankets from within. These they slung over their shoulders, and the going was warm again.

Plumpy could not have said how high they climbed, because below all he could see was small peaks and cliffs and great mounds. They walked through a great valley, so that the mountains towered over them on either side. At the very tips of the mountains, so very high in the sky, white snow tipped the crests. Looking up, Plumpy felt dizzy, and hoped very much they would never need to climb that high.

After a while they stopped for lunch, and munched on salted fish and orange slices that Mr. Mint had packed. Then they picked up where they had left off, hiking through great ravines and under enormous stone arches, over deep trenches and across sharp cliffs. They walked until night fell over the mountains, then Mr. Mint said they should stop. They huddled close under a stone ceiling in the side of the mountain.

"Perhaps we might start a fire?" Plumpy asked, but Mr. Mint shook his head.

"Fire will attract attention. Fell creatures prowl the depths of the mountains at night. We would be best to sleep in the dark, with one eye open." When Wilbur asked what kind of fell creatures he meant, the lumberjack just shook his head and insisted they get some sleep. Easy for him to say! Plumpy thought as he lay miserably, cold and frightened. After Mr. Mint put images of nasty monsters of all sorts in poor Plumpy's head, sleep would be all but impossible to achieve.

Eventually sleep did come, and after lying cramped and uncomfortable for a great long while, Plumpy had an uneasy slumber, full of dreams of strange creatures coming from the sea. He also dreamt of his oven, and of his tea pot, whistling as it sat atop the stove. When he woke up he was miserable indeed; the warmth of his oven and his tasty tea had been just a dream, and he was cramped and sore from sleeping on the hard rocks, and to top it all off Mr. Mint hadn't brought any coffee along in those great big bags of his.

Plumpy grumbled as they started off again, and he grumbled as they trudged through the mountains, until Ruth told him to stop being such a whiner. "Whiner!" he cried. "Is that what it is? When a man misses the comforts of home, he is a whiner?"

"We miss home too, Plumpy," Harry said. "That's why we're walking through all these mountains, so we can get home."

"Ah, but I already have a home, I haven't lost it, and to get there again I will have to pass through these dreaded mountains a second time!" But Plumpy thought the kids made a good point, so he stopped his complaining for a while and started whistling a walking tune instead. Everybody liked that much better, especially Wilbur, who joined in after Plumpy had whistled a few rounds. After a few hours Wilbur had the whole song down, and they were all whistling and humming the happy tune together.

"Here we are!" Mr. Mint said, stopping suddenly. Ruth nearly ran into him, and Harry ran into Ruth, and Wilbur ran into Harry. Thanks to his short legs, Plumpy didn't run into anyone.

"Here we are where?" Plumpy asked. Mr. Mint pointed up the mountain, as if they were all supposed to see something.

"We've arrived at the Gumpdrop Pass. It will shorten our journey through the mountains considerably."

"But… where is it?" Ruth asked, and Plumpy was wondering the same thing. All he could see was a great jumble of stones.

"Well, you'll have to use your imagination. It's a bit of a rough road at first, but it leads to a tunnel that cuts through the very heart of the mountains! We don't have to go through it if you don't want, but going all the way around will take many days."

They decided unanimously they did not want to be stuck walking for many days, so Mr. Mint led them up the Gumdrop Pass. They began by climbing up a perilous stone path, grasping for safe handholds as some places, and leaping from rock to rock at others. The children were utterly delighted to be hopping from boulder to boulder, on some kind of grand adventure. However, Plumpy was much shorter than the children, and therefore had a much greater distance to jump.

When he reached a particularly treacherous leap, he took the jump and landed his feet on the very edge of the boulder. He leaned backwards, and had to swing his arms wildly to keep from careening over the edge. Luckily, Mr. Mint reached out his long arm and grabbed Plumpy at the last moment. Fortunately for them all, he had the bright idea to let Plumpy grab onto his shoulders and carry him like one of the bags. After that incident things went much more smoothly.

Eventually they came to a tunnel that ran long and dark, so far into the mountain that Plumpy could not see the other side. Mr. Mint pulled from one of his bags a pair of torches and lit them up. One he handed to David and the other he kept for himself, leading them into the tunnel. Soon Plumpy lost sight of the light of day as the mouth of the tunnel shrink behind them, and they were surrounded by the darkness. They followed behind Mr. Mint as he led them through the narrow, dark tunnel.

Plumpy's stubby legs were sore and aching as they trekked for what seemed like an eternity through the mountain. The tunnel was eerily quiet, save for the trickling water that dripped from stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Occasionally Plumpy would hear the wind whistle through the caverns of the mountain, creating an unnerving, ghastly screech that sent shivers down his spine.

"This is creepy," Wilbur said.

"Don't worry, I've travelled this pass a thousand times, there's nothing to be afraid of," Mr. Mint said. "In fact, there's a special treat waiting for you up the path a ways."

"What is it?"

"Why, you'll just have to wait and see!" This did not help to calm their nerves.

They ducked beneath a stone archway; well, the children and Mr. Mint did, Plumpy just walked right under it, and the pass opened up considerably. They stood in a large cavern, with walls of sparkling rock that led on either side to deep ravines. The rock was everywhere, and was one of the most beautiful sights Plumpy had ever saw, or ever would see. It was a hundred different colors; in some spots it was a dark red, in some places a deep purple, with spots of glittering yellow and blinking blue and green. The entire cavern, from ceiling down to the walls down past the pass into the darkness. The chasms on either side of the path were endlessly deep, and sparkled with glittering rock as far as the eye could see. "It's beautiful!" Plumpy explained.

"It's crystal rock-candy. Isn't it a sight?" Mr. Mint said, feeling glad at the sights of amazement on his companion's faces.

As they walked, the crystal rock-candy danced in the torchlight. Plumpy was enthralled- it almost made the whole trip worthwhile. The tunnel took them deep within the mountains, and the crystals accompanied them for what seemed like miles.

Plumpy could not have said when the sun rose or fell from the dark confines of the tunnel, and he had been exhausted since they had started their climb up the mountains, but at some point after much walking Mr. Mint decided it was time to settle down for the night. They laid down their blankets and Mr. Mint set the bags aside. Plumpy saw there were pieces of wood inside.

"They are for fires once we are through the mountains," he explained when Plumpy interrogated him about it "and not for before. We must not light any fires while we are travelling in the mountains, or monsters will see the flames and come after us. I won't speak of them now, because it is nearly bedtime and would give the kids nightmares."

"I'm not afraid," Wilbur said defiantly, crossing his arms.

"That's because you don't know what to be afraid of, and I plan to keep it that way, and that is all I will say on the matter. Goodnight!" The lumberjack seemed quite grumpy, so they decided it was best to just let the matter drop. So they all laid down for another chilly night.

Poor Plumpy closed his eyes, but his teeth started chattering and his body kept shivering, and instead of falling asleep he seemed to have come down with a cold. "This is miserable!" He sniffed, lying there on the hard, rocky path. "Why can't we light up a fire in the cover of this tunnel? There's no place to see anything in all this rock; and I know that for a fact!"

Finally, after tossing and turning in the chill for what seemed like an hour (it was in fact only fifteen minutes), Plumpy decided to get up, and when he did so he saw that Wilbur was up as well. He was shivering and shaking. He saw Mr. Mint's large bag sitting beside him, and the peppermint logs sitting within. Plumpy decided to do the selfless thing for the shivering boy and took the logs from the bag. He set them up and took to them with flint and tinder. Soon he had struck up a small fire and he huddled close to it beside Wilbur. They lay down and soon the warm sent them into a comfortable sleep.

That night Plumpy had the most pleasant dream. He was back home, sitting on the beach tossing his fishing pole into the sea. It was warm and sunny and his chair was comfy. The fish leapt from the water, splashing about. They began to shout his name, and he waved hello.

"Plumpy!" they yelled from the sea. "Plumpy! Plumpy! Plumpy!"

"Yes, good day!" he shouted to them. Then suddenly he was awake, and Wilbur was looking down on him. "Good morning?"

"I don't think it's morning, and it's certainly not a good one!" Mr. Mint said. The kids were already awake; Plumpy was the only one still lying down. The fire had dyed to smoky embers.

"What on earth is going on?"

"You lit a fire last night, that's what happened! Despite my warnings, you lit up a fire, and now you've gotten the attention of every runt on the mountain. They're coming for us."

"Runt? What's a runt?" Ruth asked. Plumpy had only heard stories of the runts, terrible tales of the bent, twisted creatures that crawled on their horny hands and fought with swords and claws and teeth. They skulked and swarmed and scuttled in groups, and ate travelers until there was nothing left but the bones.

"Terrible monsters. They must have seen the smoke pouring out of the entrance," Mr. Mint said. He leaned over his bag and bared three swords, which he handed to the children. They each took their blade gingerly. For Plumpy he had only a dagger, small for a normal sized person but the perfect size for Plumpy.

"I can't use a sword, I don't know how," Ruth cried, but the boys looked excited and swung the swords about enthusiastically. Plumpy's had been taught the basics of swordplay by his old Pap, so he took the dagger confidently in his hand.

"You'll have to learn as you go, then," Mr. Mint said as he heaved the bags over his shoulder and took up his axe. "This way!" He led them off in a run through the tunnel, and at first Plumpy wasn't sure what they were running from. After a few moments, though, he could hear scratching at the rock and screeching of voices, coming from somewhere deep within the mountain.

He ran as fast as his legs could take him, sword in one hand and torch in the other, away from the vile howling and screeching. As they made for the exit, he began to fall behind the rest of the group, having a distinct height disadvantage. "Wait! Wait for me!"

"Come on, now, Plumpy! Don't fall behind!" Despite Mr. Mint's interdiction, Plumpy huffed and puffed as he watched his companions disappear up the tunnel. The last bit of Mr. Mint's torchlight flickered in the distance, and was swallowed up by the darkness, and then Plumpy was alone. The screeches and gnashing echoed all around him.

"Oh, dear me," he thought. Panic jumbled his thoughts, and for a second he stopped and spun every which way, pointing his sword at the walls of the tunnel. Then he saw a wrinkled, scaly hand arise from the edge of the path, and the rest of the wrinkled, scaly body followed. Plumpy seized up in terror for a moment as the runts began to clamber from over the edge, dancing and prancing all around him. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he waved his sword.

He wished very much that he was back on his hammock with the plum trees. They never clawed or bit at him the way the runts did. He slashed his sword and sent a few of the horrible creatures skittering back, to trip over each other and fell off the precipice, but for every runt he fended off two more took its place.

Plumpy had all but given up hope and was ready to throw down his sword when a great axe came swinging from the darkness, sending a whole group of runts careening from the edge. Mr. Mint had returned for him! He jumped into the candlelight and grabbed Plumpy. "Quick! On my back!" he said, and Plumpy held on tight as Mr. Mint started off, bowling runts out of the way as he went. Plumpy held on for dear life as they galloped along, the runts gaining behind them.

Finally the end was in sight; Plumpy could see a small light in the distance, ever growing as they closed the distance between them and their escape. Behind them the runts were gaining ground, biting at the Mr. Mint's heels as he sprinted down the pass. The tunnel was a cacophony of growls and hisses and howls. Then the mouth of the tunnel was before them, and the kids were there waiting for them, and they burst into the blinding light of the open mountain range.

By the time Plumpy's eyes had adjusted to the change in light they were already on their way. The vast forest of the Lollipop Woods lay far below. They ran along a steep ledge that tumbled down and down for miles. Mr. Mint turned his head and slowed to a halt. "They've stopped following us," he said. "Runts hate the sun. They will not pursue us during the light of day. We are safe for now."

He set Plumpy down. For the first time since they had left the tunnel, he had an opportunity to get a good look at the landscape on the horizon. The trees looked like leaves of grass beneath them, and in the distance they could make out Cadbury. For the first time in a long time Plumpy felt like a giant. "There it is," he said, pointing out the city to the children. "Candy Castle!"

"It looks wonderful," Ruth said, though it was just a speck on the skyline.

"Wait until you can actually see it. It'll astound and amaze you," Mr. Mint said. He sat down beside Plumpy and rummaged through his bag until he found a small white stick. He grabbed a small satchel and poured a small pile of red powder onto the stick. He stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it for a good long while.

"Do you think you should be dipping in front of the children?" Plumpy asked him incredulously.

"Dipping?"

"See, they don't even know what it is," Mr. Mint said gruffly, and poured more colorful powder onto the small, round ladle. This time it was the color of glittering emeralds.

"What's dipping?" Wilbur asked.

"Never you mind," Plumpy said. "Why don't you try to get some rest? It was an eventful night."

So they all lay down and rested, except for Mr. Mint, who leaned against a rock and sucked his fun dip.


	6. Chapter 5

The day seemed longer on the other side of the mountain range, where the sun had no towering peaks to hide behind. The kids awoke and they supped on fruitcake and hard taffy. The continuous running had made Plumpy parched.

"There's no water left," Mr. Mint said. "There's a stream not far ahead, we shall have to fill up the duds there." He tossed an empty dud to each of his companions. It was flat and brown, and smelled peculiar to Plumpy.

"What's this thing?" Ruth asked, wrinkling her nose.

"That's a dud. It's for holding water or other drinks."

"It smells funny," Plumpy said, taking a tentative sniff.

"That's because it's made out of the insides of cows," Mr. Mint said, throwing his bundles again over his shoulder. "Your options are to fill up those duds or suffer being thirsty."

Neither Wilbur nor Harry took issue with the duds, and after some convincing Ruth shrugged her shoulders of the matter. Plumpy, not wanting to seem any sorer than he was, complied with the majority decision and tucked the empty brown dud into his belt. Then they were off again, to do some more walking through mountains.

Now that the end was in sight, and what a breathtaking sight it was, the trek didn't seem so bad. Plumpy felt light now that they were through the tunnel and back on the beaten path. As they went on their way, Plumpy began to whistle a song his Pap had sung many times. Mr. Mint knew the tune too, so he joined in as they ambled down the path.

"How much longer do we have to walk?" Harry asked.

"We should be out of the mountain by nightfall," Mr. Mint told them.

"And good riddance to it," said Plumpy. He was tired of hiking up and down and being chased by monsters and shivering in the dark at night.

Just as the sun was beginning to set on the distant horizon, the path began to descend, sloping gently this way and that, back and forth in a zig-zag pattern until they came to the foot of the mountain. Plumpy looked up, and was quite overwhelmed to see where they had stood earlier that day, so very high up that sight of it was nearly lost in the high clouds. "Goodness gracious," he said despairingly. "I suppose we'll have to go through that tumult on the return journey, won't we."

"With any luck, we will be able to charter a voyage down the coast of the Icecream Sea and avoid the mountains altogether," Mr. Mint reassured him, "Elsewise, we could take the long way around the mountain, but that way is considerably longer."

That night they camped at a place where the road forked, diverging in one direction to the west, and in the other to the north. The place was thick with trees. They were friendly trees, at least, a healthy brown with thick green foliage, and Plumpy sat and told them tales as the children watched him from the campfire nearby.

"Why is he talking to the trees?" Harry asked Mr. Mint.

"Because they're talking to him, of course. It's not good manners to ignore someone who is speaking to you."

"Where we come from, trees can't talk at all," Wilbur quipped. "I like it here."

"Why aren't you talking to the trees, Mr. Mint?"

"They won't talk to me," he said, pouring dip onto his white ladle. He stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it. "They don't like me, because of my profession. Would you talk to someone who went around making children like yourselves into firewood?"

"No, I suppose not." Wilbur thought about it for a while. "Do all the trees talk?"

"Most do. There are some trees, though, deep in the lollipop woods, who have nothing nice to say, or nothing to say at all. I can hardly blame them, for that is a dark place, festering with corruption and malevolence. Nothing good comes out of that forest."

"Isn't that where you said Lord Licorice lives? The king's brother?"

"That's right. It's a widely asked question as to whether it was the forest that made Lord Licorice so twisted and bad, or if it was the other way around."

The trees had brighter things to talk about, and Plumpy sat happily as they told of travelers they had seen in their innumerous years. Tree-speak was a funny thing, and not any old person could learn to talk to the trees, but they had a lot to say once you knew how to speak their language. Plumpy's Pap had known how to speak to the trees, and he had taught Plumpy, because tending the plum tree plot was mighty lonely business if there was nobody around to talk to.

Every so often the trees would get into arguments about what kind of boots a travelling minstrel was wearing, or what an old lady had in her cart. Such was the nature of their talk. They spoke in fine, precise detail, because the trees had more time and more sense than other folk. They did not measure time in days and months, they knew it passed in the falling of leaves and the frosting of the earth. There were no words for it, trees could not comprehend the concept of time any more than we could understand their concept of timelessness.

Now it just so happened that these trees had seen a host of soldiers and nobles garbed in fine red and black dress. This report disturbed Plumpy, so he asked the trees when this was, and did that create a quarrel between the trees, for as was mentioned earlier trees have no concept of time. After much deliberate clarification and apologizing, Plumpy finally managed to discern that they had last seen a pair of travelers, and before the travelers had come the red and black host.

Plumpy thanked the trees and told Mr. Mint what the trees had said. "It does not bode well," he concluded when he had finished telling the tale. "It makes me most uncomfortable."

"Where would such troops have been headed?" Mr. Mint asked, stroking his chin.

"Who are you talking about? The people in red and black, who are they?" Ruth asked.

"Red and black are the colors of Lord Licorice," Plumpy explained. "This was a horde of Lord Licorice's men, up to no good, no doubt."

"If such a host had passed down through the mountain, I would have seen them by the light of day. So either they came down on our side of the mountain by nightfall…"

"Or they never came down on your side of the mountain at all," Harry offered. "Maybe they were doing something in the mountains."

"Perhaps. But enough of this fruitless speculation. It will get us nowhere," Mr. Mint decided.

"It gives me an uneasy feeling," Plumpy said, putting his hand on his stomach. "I'll just be glad to stay as far away from Licorice's domain as possible."

"This road takes us well north of Licorice Castle," Mr. Mint assured him. "The old road used to curve back and forth all through the countryside in the old days, but a century ago a new Rainbow Trail was carved. It will take us very nearly straight to Cabury."

"I am very glad to hear that. I've had more than enough of trudging through the wilderness. A little civilization is just what I need."

"It's a few days walk through smooth plains and rolling grasslands, and then you will have all the civilization you can handle."

The next day Mr. Mint packed their things, Plumpy bid the trees adieu, and the company was on their way. Sunshine washed over the land, just as it had yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and the day before that, and all the days before those for the last century. "What a nice day!" Ruth exclaimed, taking a deep breath of warm, fresh air.

"Is it? Seems a bit stuffy to me," Plumpy said, sniffling his nose.

"It's been gorgeous all week," Harry said. "Where we come from it rains at least twice a week, usually more."

"I cannot imagine such a hellhole." Mr. Mint shuddered. "For you to say these things… Candyland has not seen rain for centuries. Even to my grandfather's father the rains are but a myth."

"It doesn't rain in Candyland? Not ever?"

"It has, before. Long ago. It was a time of much despairing." Mr. Mint spoke somberly. "The rain rushed in and washed everything away in a spell of utter destruction that lasted days. The earth was flooded and there was nothing left when it all dried out."

"I can't imagine that. Rain, a bad thing?" Ruth said thoughtfully.

"Never was there more ill an omen."

Plumpy shifted uncomfortably. All this talk of rain and destruction was sinking his spirits. "Let's speak of happier things."

"Good idea." Mr. Mint nodded. "The worst is behind us, as far as our trip goes. This path will take us through rolling hills where farmers work the land and raise livestock. The journey is nearing its end."

"Nearing its half, you mean," Plumpy grumbled. "We've still got to get home after this."

"Look on the bright side. With any luck, the ride home will be smooth sailing down the coast of the Icescream Sea."

"I get seasick."

"You can walk home then." Mr. Mint grinned as Plumpy huffed. What he was doing on this quest, he did not know. He should have turned around while he still could have, while he was still on the other side of those mountains and the doubts nagged at him. Now steep paths and sloping peaks and growling monsters separated Plumpy from his comforting abode. He was stuck between rock candy and a hard place.

Soon they came up on the rolling hills Mr. Mint had spoken of. The sun poured across sweeping meadows that went on for miles. They passed cows in open passed grazing lazily on long green grass. Plumpy saw fields of healthy green crops: tall stalks of candy corn swaying on the breeze, bunches of jelly beans waiting to be picked clean, and sour patches of Idaho spuds. "You're now entering Missuz fields," Mr. Mint told them as they walked. "This is where most of Cadbury's food is produced. Kids, I don't know how they do things where you're from, but in Candyland most folks live off what they sow, except right here in Missuz fields. The farmers here make a fortune feeding the folks who live in and around the castle, so you can bet your honey buns they're happy folk."

As if on cue, a farmer emerged from the tall plants. He grinned and waved a hand at them. "Mr. Mint!" He shouted cheerily. "Good to see you round these parts again! No lumber this time?"

"No wood, today I've got quite a different sort of cargo," Mr. Mint replied. "This is Plumpy, and our young companions are children from across the sea."

"Across the sea? You don't say!" The farmer said, his jaw dropping in amazement. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, friends!"

"He's so friendly," Ruth commented when they had passed. "Are all the people who work these fields such jolly ranchers?"

"They live good lives here, tending the cattle and harvesting the crops. They've little to fear or lament."

Soon they came upon a small farmhouse with a coop in the back. Mr. Mint started up the dirt path to the front door and knocked. The house sprang to life instantly, becoming a cacophony of noise. They could hear dogs barking within, yowling ravenously like their very lives were at stake. Then came a gruff voice, shouting "Aw, quiet!" and "Shut yer traps before I shut 'em for you!" Then they heard a women loudly condemn the scoldings.

"Aw, you leave them dogs alone!" It shouted. "They're just doing their jobs, protecting the homestead!"

"I got me a sword, don't I?" the rough voice said in reply, "I don't need these- QUIT THAT YOWLING- mangy mutts to be scaring away all my company!"

"What makes you think it's company for you? Could be robbers at the door, or murderers!"

"Fer cryin' out loud, woman, if it was robbers they wouldn't come a knocking on the front door! Some times I think you got nothing in that noggin but a couple of raisinets! Go on, get! Shoo!" The front door swung open abruptly and there stood a scraggly man with a wild beard and a ragged straw hat. He looked over his company for a second with eyes squinting with impatience, but when he saw Mr. Mint his large furry eyebrows shot up in surprise and he gave them all a wide, nearly-toothless smile. "Well I'll be. Look who finally decided to give us a visit."

"Who is it, Henry?" a woman shouted from within.

"Come out and see for yerself, woman!"

A frayed woman popped into the doorway. "Well I'll be! Mr. Mint! How nice to see you again!"

"Yes, it's a pleasure," Mr. Mint said. Just then, three immense dogs weaved through their legs and bounded toward the lumberjack. He had just enough time to brace himself for impact before they each leapt at him, tongues lolling and spittle flying every which way. The children ducked as Mr. Mint was knocked flat on his back as the dogs slobbered all over him, covering his body in slobbery wet kisses.

"That's enough now, girls," Henry the farmer said. "Come on now, let the man breathe. Hey, off now. Cherry, Razzapple, off! You too, Grape! OY!" The dogs turned around and ran back into the house. "Sorry bout them."

"Not a problem, it's always nice to see the girls again," the lumberjack said as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"So, what brings you round these parts? And who are your friends?" The woman eyed them with curiosity.

"They ain't ruffians, are they?" Henry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, Henry," the woman huffed. "If they're friends of Mr. Mint I'm sure they're respectable folk."

Mr. Mint smiled. "It's alright. These is my longtime companion Plumpy," he said, gesturing to Plumpy. As he gave a deep bow Mr. Mint continued, "and this is Harry, Wilbur and Ruth. They're children from across the Great Sea. They were shipwrecked on the shore and we're headed to Cadbury to seek navigational charts to get them home."

Henry looked them each up and down, nodding and mumbling to himself. "And what can a pair a old farmhands do fer you?"

"I'm calling in a favor, actually," Mr. Mint said, dropping his large sacks on the ground in front of them. "We're running low on supplies and I was hoping you could provide us with the means to finish our journey to the city on full stomach."

"First time we have a guest in weeks, and he's looking for vittles," Henry grumbled, disappearing into the interior of the house. "Go see what you can scrounge up for Mr. Mint, woman. You got duds that need filling?"

"Yes, please," Mr. Mint said, and everyone handed their duds over to the old woman.

"Come on in, Mr. Mint." They all piled into the small house, one after another. It was a simple set up, one large room with a straw bed and a table and a rocking chair beside the hearth. The dogs were curled up happily beside the hearth, resting their heads on each other like firm furry pillows. "Sorry if I seem short, old friend. There's been activity in the old forest that's got us farm folk on the edge. There's evil stirring there, sure as day. Rumors have it Lord Licorice has had a busy couple of months, travelling through the land looking for allies, it's said. Mark my words, he's readying for war, and war of the worst kind..."

"Brother against brother?" Henry nodded solemnly. Mr. Mint shook his head and Plumpy shivered. He wished he was in the safety of his plum tree plot.

"Where are them supplies at, woman?" Henry shouted out the back door.

"They're coming, don't bite yer tootsie pop!" she replied as she lumbered through the door with a large crate of goods in her hands. "I got you some cream eggs and fresh cow tails."

"Cow tails?" Ruth asked, her face scrunching. The woman handed her the crate and she looked inside. Standing on the tips of his toes, Plumpy could just peek over the edge and peer within.

"They're delicious, trust me!" she replied with a wink. Mr. Mint scooped out the contents with a large hand and dropped them into one of his bags. "That should be enough for you to get by on until you reach Cadbury!"

"You want to eat any more of my food?" Henry asked gruffly.

"Oh, hush, you. That's Henry asking if you will stay for dinner."

"Thank you, but the sooner we're off the sooner we make it to Cadbury. Your generosity will not be forgotten," Mr. Mint said as he took the bags over his shoulder again and made for the door.

"Any time dear, any time," Henry's wife said sweetly. As they left, each of the children and Plumpy all thanked their hosts in turn, and soon they were on their way.


	7. Chapter 6

There was much travelling and very little rest for the company as they passed through rolling plains, crossed over wide rivers, always beneath the smiling yellow sun. Plumpy's feet were worn and blistered, and so he did the best to walk on the sides of his feet. Scabby and sunburned, he dragged them along the rainbow stone path at a grueling pace, and as they journeyed on he frequently lagged behind. Mr. Mint would shout out, "Keep up, Plumpy!" and the poor plum gardener would huff and puff as he pumped his little legs. The children would bid him to keep pace, but he was not blessed with their long legs or their shiny shoes made from some hard cloth. Nikees, Henry had called them, but the name meant nothing to Plumpy.

Not an hour went by that Plumpy didn't wish he was back in his hammock, sipping tea and losing himself in a good book. "Perhaps one day I will write a book, once this is all over," he thought to himself. "A lumberjack, a gardener, and three strange children from a distant land." The more he thought about it, though, the sillier the thought seemed. Nobody would want to read such a story; it would drag terribly and would lack substance of interest.

The Rainbow Trail sloped up a hill, and Plumpy briefly considered giving up then and there. "How much farther do we have to walk?" He huffed as they ascended. His furry legs burned beneath the knee. Mr. Mint stopped at the crest of the hill, and looked back to smile down on him. The kids, who stood beside the lumberjack, gasped sharply.

"Why don't you join us up here, and see the answer for yourself?"

The top of the hill hid a sight that, once Plumpy finally stood beside the children and looked upon it with his own two eyes, took his breath away. His quick, shallow panting became one deep inhale as he looked beyond the crest onto the city of Cadbury. Dozens of immense buildings of all shapes and sizes protruded above tall brown walls, but none stood higher or mightier than Candy Castle. Its turrets soared over the city, with towers of so many colors that against the blue sky of day the castle was a rainbow.

Beyond the city limits hovels dotted the green grass plains, hugging the shade of the great wall. The citizens of Cadbury had grown too numerous for all to live in the safety of the wall, so instead of living within the city they lived beside the city, looking like little ants as they moved to and fro.

A clear blue lake sat between Cadbury and the children, with a long river trailing from it like a tail. "We shall have to walk around the lake," Mr. Mint told them. "The river runs wide for miles to the south, through forest we would not dare tread. It is a bit of a detour, but we will be within the castle walls soon enough. Any more questions, Plumpy?"

"I have no words," Plumpy said, still taking in the splendor of the city of many colors. "How could I ask a question?"

"If there's nothing more to be said, let us be on our way," Mr. Mint said. They descended the hill and circled the lake, but their eyes seldom left the magnificent city.

By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the city the sun was dipping behind the hills. It hung low behind Candy Castle, turning the sky-scraping towers into silhouettes of black against a blinding background of light. As they neared the hovels the hands began to wave, and Mr. Mint waved back as his name was shouted all around. Leaning as close to his ear as little Plumpy could get, he said in a low voice, "Do you know the entire kingdom, or just everyone we've seen so far?"

"They all know me," Mr. Mint explained as he waved back. "My trips are frequent and often always end well for them. What I give these people is a valuable and appreciated resource."

They began to come over and greet Mr. Mint with a handshake or a firm embrace. At first it was just a few, but soon Plumpy was feeling quite smothered by the crowds of Caburians who decided to come say hello to Mr. Mint and his new friends. Mr. Mint introduced each of the children to anyone who asked, so soon the "children from beyond the sea" had become celebrities of sorts. Plumpy heard the people addressing Ruth and Harry and Wilbur by first name, even if the children could not have hoped to remember the name of everyone who greeted them. As for himself, Plumpy was small enough to avoid detection for the most part. It was nice not having to greet anyone or try to remember a hundred names, but Plumpy soon realized he would rather be shaking hands than getting trampled on. By the time they had made it through the throngs of people had arrived at the city gates, and Plumpy nursed his fresh bumps and bruises as Mr. Mint called for the gatekeeper.

A young face beneath a pink-grey helm popped out of a triangular window to look down upon them. "Who goes there?" he said in a high, boyish voice.

"It's me, and I have four companions," Mr. Mint called up in a confident voice. "Will you open the gate for us?"

"The doors are closed at night," the boy explained.

"Night has not yet fallen," Mr. Mint said with a bemused grin on his face. "I can see rays of sunlight sneaking past your head."

"The gate his been shut for the night. You are welcome to enter in the morning," The boy said adamantly. "Good day, sir."

Mr. Mint stood for a moment, perplexed. The youth's head disappeared into the window. The lumberjack looked discombobulated as he stroked his chin with a gloved hand. Then finally realization lit up his eyes, and he grin a knowledgeable grin. "He's young. Obviously he does not know who I am," he told them with a wink. Then he called up again and the gatekeeper popped his head out a second time, a scowl on his face. "Boy," Mr. Mint said to him. "Perhaps you don't know who I am. Do you know of Mr. Mint, from beyond the Gumdrop Mountains?"

"Of course I know of Mr. Mint! He brings us the finest lumber this side of the Icecream Sea, and he's quite the craftsman, too. When I was a boy my brother and I used to buy his peppermint bark by the handful."

"You're still quite the boy, my lad. I am that craftsman who you speak so highly of!"

"Mr. Mint! My, it's good to see you here! What ever are you doing in Cadbury?"

"I'm not exactly in Cadbury am I? Perhaps you could assist us in that regard?"

"Sorry, Mr. Mint. My orders are that this door stays closed from sun up til sun down."

Mr. Mint frowned. "Is there somebody else up there I can talk to, perhaps? A superior officer, maybe? Somebody older?"

The boy disappeared into the window again and for a moment they stood there. Then a fat bearded head emerged, looked down at them, growled, "Oh, fer Zots' sake..." then disappeared again. A moment later the large wooden doors into the city swung open and the bearded man was waiting for them, his arms wide open. "Mr. Mint!" he greeted the party, taking the lumberjacks' hand in a bone-crushing shake. "It's so good te see ye again! Sorry about the confusion, 'at dunderhead is on his second week as gatekeeper, an' he don't know the firs' thing about folks wit' celebrity status."

"I'm just glad everything got figured out," Mr. Mint said. He told the big man the names of each of his companions, first the children then Plumpy, and then he introduced the big man to them. "This is Brach. He is a fierce soldier who has been here for as long as I can remember."

"Oh now, yeh make me out to be some old fart!" He laughed and took all five of them in a lung-squishing hug.

"We're looking to see the King."

"I fear yer too late in the day fer that. King Rikand holds court from noon to dinner. Ye can take a load off at an inn so you'll be all freshened up to meet His Majesty tomorrow. I suggest Wonka's, but look who I'm talking to; ye've been here plenty before!"

Plumpy, who had not been to Cadbury plenty before, asked, "Wonka's?"

"Aye, Wonka's. It's an inn and tavern. Cheap rooms and comfy beds."

"I think Wonka's will do us some good. Thank you, Brach." Mr. Mint shook the large man's hand.

"Any time, Mr. Mint." Brach replied with a great grin on his fat bearded face.

With that they were off, through the streets of Cadbury. The children could not keep their eyes in front of them; they would constantly look up in amazement at the buildings and let their eyes wander until they tripped over the uneven cobblestone road. It was lined with houses of deep brown that sat atop shops and businesses of all kinds, from bakeries to blacksmiths, from cobblers to carpenters. The main street even had a chocolatier, which stayed open late into the night for folk who worked during the day but had a sweet tooth at night. Most buildings went up two stories, which left taller buildings like the cathedral to stand tall above the rest. They passed beneath it as they crossed a large stone plaza, looking up at the belltower as they bathed in its shade. It was built from stone of mostly grey, but red and blue and green could be seen in its parapets along the roof.

The moon had taken up the sun's post for his nightly watch when they finally arrived at the tavern. Plumpy was amazed and dismayed at how far they had walked; he had not realized how truly large the city was until he walked it on his own two paws. A sign hung from above the door, and he squinted as he read what it said aloud. "The Three Sprees?"

"You won't find better lodgings for the price in all of Cadbury," Mr. Mint said as he opened the door. "Besides, Wonka is an old friend of mine. I'm sure we can figure something out."

They all entered one after the other. The inn was quaint, and it was warm, and it had a long bar with tall stools. Mr. Mint reached his gangly legs over one of the stools and sat down. The children followed suit, and Plumpy struggled to clamber atop the seat. Mr. Mint leaned over and hailed a tall man with wild hair and an old purple hat. You could tell it was old because it was tattered and stained, and the way it hung haphazardly on his head gave an air of oddity about the man. When he saw Mr. Mint he broke into a smile that revealed he was missing two of his teeth.

"Lookee here," he whistled. "If it ain't my old pal the Mintster!"

"Evening, Wonka," Mr. Mint replied. "It's been a long time."

"Too long, if you ask me! What're you doing in Cadbury? And who are your friends? Are they thirsty? Are you thirsty? Tired? Hungry? All of the above?" Wonka shot them a crooked smile.

"We would like lodgings for the night. We're here to see the king."

"Oh, here to see the king! Must be important, I say! I shall prepare the royal suite!" Wonka shouted with a flourish of his hat. "Nothing but the finest feather beds for guests of the king, and for friends of Mr. Mint! On the house! No, sir, I insist! It's the least I can do for all the good you have done for me!" He waved his large hands around, gesturing at a room full of furniture build from peppermint trees. He grabbed a set of keys from beneath the table and slid them toward the lumberjack. "Take the last two rooms on the left. One for the men and one for the" –Wonka gave a curtsey and a bow- "lady."

Mr. Mint snatched up the keys and thanked Wonka profusely. The children imitated him and Wonka looked rather overwhelmed. "Yes, yes, you're quite welcome," he laughed. Mr. Mint stood and walked to the staircase, waiting for the children to catch up. Plumpy had finally made it to the top of his barstool when Mr. Mint bid him to follow.

They made their way up the stairs and went to the last rooms on the left. Two feather beds awaited them. Mr. Mint dropped his bags and declared he would take the floor. Harry and Wilbur crawled into one of the beds, which left Plumpy a large feather mattress all to himself. As he snuggled beneath the covers, he was comfortable and content for the first time since they had started off. His sore legs tingled, and he yawned a long, squeaky yawn before he shut his eyes and fell into an unbroken sleep.


End file.
